


Chrysalis

by Beltenebra



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Hallucinations, Supernatural Elements, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jin thinks about his development as a solo artist coming into his own, becoming a beautiful butterfly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for JE Squickfic 2011.

He must have mentioned it in some interview – there were so many interviews now, not just the regular magazines like before - Wink-up, Myojo, Duet, Potato, and Popolo - floating by in their regular monthly cycle with their predictable questions, looking for stock answers. 'I like girls who are confident. For a summer date going to the sea is the best! These days my favorite food has definitely been ramen.'. Now there were real entertainment and music magazines both Japanese and foreign, and interviews in English and webzines and real questions, difficult questions with real stakes. And no bandmates to pull his ass out of the fire if he said something he shouldn't. 

He remembered parts of the interview very clearly, the reporter had been British and he had been horribly nervous about his ability to keep up with the girl's heavily accented English. They met at a pub-style place in Shibuya. She had done a very good job of putting him at ease, laughing at all of his stupid jokes, smiling at him like every word out of his mouth was brilliant, buying him a few beers. A half-hour in he was completely relaxed, having a good time and chatting easily, it didn't feel like an interview at all. 

She had gotten him talking about his evolution as a solo artist which of course led straight to his separation from KAT-TUN and the myriad emotions that went along with that. It was a fucking minefield. He really should have known better. 

He actually winced when it came out and he got to read in perfect detail what he only sort of remembered saying. He knew that it was a popular opinion that he was shallow and self-absorbed but that was the first time he had ever seen himself play right into that stereotype. He sounded like a total tool: comparing his hip-pop club style to his own view of artistic expression. He had compared himself to a butterfly for fuck's sake, emerging from his cocoon to revolutionize the world of dance music. He had definitely made it sound like KAT-TUN had been holding him and his 'unique voice' back for years. 

A few days after it hit the shelves he had gotten a slew of text messages from his crew ribbing him about the more quotable quotes. 

_-Since when is PinDom high art, Jin?_

_\- 'It's a party take a shot. It's a party clap your hands. It's a party spend them dollars. It's a party grab a girl.' That's real poetry right there, bro._

_-If you're a 'beautiful butterfly' then I'm doing a collaboration with a Backstreet Boy._

Aubree, Dom, and Yu respectively. But hey, look what happened with Yu, maybe he wasn't a liar after all. He was never more grateful that none of his former group members read English very well. 

Anyway, it had been months ago. He had walked on eggshells around everyone he knew in Japan for days waiting for someone to punch him. Or at least verbally abuse him. The worst he got was a weary sigh and disappointed frown from his manager. He had promised himself that he would never again drink at an interview and wrote the whole thing off as a learning experience about the perils of foreign media. 

So why was he having these freaky-ass dreams now? They weren't bad dreams exactly. Just... intense. He was dreaming of jungles. At least he thought they were, the dreams were less a series of memorable events and more very vivid impressions. He remembered technicolor greens, plants pressing in all around, the air heavy in his lungs- the humidity almost giving it texture. He woke up gasping at the tropical heat and the feeling of vegetation sliding against his naked skin. 

It had started out as one or two a month but recently he had been having them more often. And he swore they were getting stronger. In the last one he had been overwhelmed by this _smell_ , well kind of a smell. The plants smelled like plants, like green and growing things that he vaguely remembered from gardens and flower shops but the whole thing was overlaid with a sharp and ravenous hunger. If hunger was a smell. 

He had emerged from the latest one totally disoriented and still half-asleep and tweeted about that thought. It got him a reply from Yu about how smell and taste were closely linked and that's why people who had colds didn't want to eat and a message from Pi asking if he was still drunk from last night or sleep-tweeting again. 

He stumbled to the kitchen driven by that edge of wanting _something_ even if he had no idea what. Nothing in the fridge looked appealing, maybe something to drink? His eyes fell on a small silver and blue can shoved to the back. One of Pi's horrible energy drinks. He normally despised those things and wouldn't touch them without a liberal amount of vodka to cut the sweetness. That shit tasted like liquid candy, he hadn't been interested in that kind of thing since he was eleven. 

Nevertheless he found himself popping the tab and taking a cautious sip. The sugary chill washed over his tongue and it was perfect, _exactly_ what his body wanted. A few long swallows later he was holding an empty can and contrary to the intended effect he felt full and sleepy. 

He shrugged it off as one of those things that wasn't worth thinking about at seven o'clock in the morning and slumped back into bed. The rest of his sleep was deep and, as far as he knew, dreamless. 

The taste for sweet things stuck with him though. The last time he had coffee with Ueda the other man had shot him a look of distaste laced with concern at the amount of sugar Jin added to his coffee, asking gently if Jin had some kind of hormonal imbalance. He made some lame joke about not being as naturally sweet as Ueda and the other man dropped it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. 

The dreams persisted. More and more often he was waking up disoriented and still so tired. He was starting to feel a bit frayed around the edges, sometimes hyper-aware and jumping at small sounds, sometimes nodding off during a short rehearsal break or while he was waiting for a studio session. 

He figured his continuously increasing appetite must have something to do with that. His body must be compensating for the lack of rest by demanding more fuel. He didn't seem to be gaining weight despite the fact that he was eating something like six meals a day. Pretty much everything he could get his hands on - although, oddly, leafy greens seemed to be the most satisfying. 

Kame had sent him a mail about it, asked him if he was bulking up for a part he hadn't told anyone about yet or if he was on some weird fad diet. The e-mail ended with a gentle warning to be careful with his health. Jin knew that whatever else might have happened Kame still worried about all of them. And he knew more than most of them about the hazards of body issues. 

Jin sent back a message full of reassurance and cute food emoji. He had plans to meet Nakamaru for lunch later that week. He would make sure Maru knew he was fine so the other man could pass verifiable evidence back to Kame. 

He had stayed closer friends with Nakamaru than any of the other members of the group. The man kept him grounded, made him feel relaxed. He definitely could have used Maru's sensible presence in that ridiculous interview. 

Nakamaru left the choice of restaurant up to him and he picked a place near his apartment that had mediocre steaks but a really impressive salad bar. His stomach growled when he surveyed the assortment of vegetables and toppings. By this point he thought maybe there was something wrong with him but it couldn't be too bad if it made him want to eat vegetables, right? Maybe it was just later twenties creeping up on him and subtly suggesting that he try to eat more healthily. 

They had been having a totally normal lunch, catching up on their various news. Jin let Maru's voice wash over him, reveling in the comfortable sound as it wound through anecdotes about KAT-TUN's new TV show and their last PV filming, Taguchi's latest horrible jokes and Ueda's hair. Maru was happy to keep the conversation going and Jin was happy to let him. He wasn't really sure how to broach his concerns about the latest developments in his life. 

"Kame thinks the stress is getting to you." 

Jin looked up from his salad. "Huh?" 

Nakamaru smiled gently but Jin could see the echo of worry in his eyes. "He thinks the pressure of being a solo artist trying to break into a non-Asian market is making you a little loopy." 

"Oh." Jin couldn't say he hadn't been considering the same possibility himself. "What do you think?"

His friend's voice was warm and supportive as always and something in Jin's shoulders eased at Maru's response. "I think you're going to be fine. You're just going farther away than you've ever been before. I think it makes Kame nervous. On your behalf, for what it might mean for us... you know Kame, he's never really needed a reason to worry." 

He had to laugh at that. "Yeah, but luckily we have you to keep us sane." 

"I do sometimes wish you were still with us. You know, close enough that I could keep an eye on you. I worry too. That being said-" Nakamaru's smile shone in the afternoon light, "I think you're going to be amazing." 

In the time it took Maru to eat a regular sandwich and finish his iced tea, Jin had eaten about seven full plates of salad. 

Nakamaru shook his head with a little grin. "I feel like I should be taking pictures. I never thought I would see the day when you would willingly forgo meat in favor of lettuce." His phone trilled happily and he glanced down. "Massu and I are going shopping, he's meeting me here. Want to come?" 

"Nah, it's ok." Jin liked Masuda fine but spending the whole afternoon traipsing around after him on a quest for dubious fashion was not really his idea of a great time. 

The man in question arrived a few minutes later and had a seat while Jin crunched his way through the last of his salad. 

"You remind me of a children's book, Akanishi-kun," Massu remarked with his usual good humor. 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah, _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_. Did you read that when you were young?" 

And just like that the peace that Jin had been stockpiling that afternoon was gone, blown away like dead leaves in a chill wind. One harmless comment and Jin was right back on edge. He couldn't put his finger on exactly what made him so uncomfortable but he couldn't help notice the smell of green and a sound just at the edge of hearing. Like a rush of wings. 

A few weeks passed and things were more or less back to normal. Close to normal, anyway. He was still having the occasional dream and his appetite hadn't diminished but he was probably getting more nutrients than ever before. 

It had been a long day of meetings, endless meetings. And not the fun kind, not planning meetings where he and his collaborators got to toss ideas back and forth and discuss the artistic side of projects. These were the boring contracts and logistics kind of meetings. He had been bugging his manager to find a way around him actually being there but people insisted. Mind-numbing boredom was part of being an international superstar too. He was basically told to grow up and stop whining and well, he was so close to becoming the kind of artist he wanted to be that he couldn't really see the point in pushing the issue. 

He indulged in a long, hot shower. He let the water run and steam up his bathroom, enjoying the sauna feel of the air on his damp skin until the memory of jungle crept in around the edges. He clamped down on the thought and did his best to push it away, determined to relax. 

The slightly rough texture of the towel felt good. The water must have been hotter than he realized because he felt kind of prickly, just a little itchy all over. He scrubbed at his cheeks and moved on to his shoulders before swiping the towel over the fogged mirror. 

It took him a second to process what he saw when he looked up. Long strips of skin hung from his cheeks revealing fresh, new skin, a grisly parody of peeling sunburn. All of the places he had toweled himself off, skin was just sloughing off like dry onion peel. Huge chunks of skin, from his face, from his arms, his shoulders. 

But the new skin underneath wasn't healthy and pink. It was green. He had gone completely cold, his throat had closed up in terror, he couldn't make a sound. But he could move; he brushed furiously at the skin on his arms, willing the shiny green substance to be some kind of hallucination. More skin peeled back at his touch revealing yet more green. It was harder than skin, like a kind of carapace. 

His heart was racing. This couldn't be real, couldn't be, couldn't be. He didn't want to look up but he couldn't help it, it was like some terrible compulsion to raise his eyes to the glass. The face in the mirror was shocking, his face still barely recognizable as his own, except for the eyes. His eyes were gone, replaced with some kind of black, beady spots; barely discernible as eyes at all. 

Jin found he could scream after all. 

He sat up with a bone-jarring jolt; finding himself on the couch, still in his clothes from earlier that day. There was no shower, no horrible steam. No- he couldn't even finish the thought, just ripped off his sweatshirt to check the smooth, unbroken skin of his arms. 

He raced to the bathroom and forced himself to look. His face was normal. Unblemished. His eyes looked like they always did except for the clear gleam of panic. He checked the shower stall, the walls and floor were completely dry. There were no signs of skin flakes anywhere, he spent twenty minutes on his hands and knees checking and re-checking the floor of the small space just to make sure. 

It had just been a dream. He never wanted to sleep again. 

He curled into a tense ball of misery on the couch, not trusting himself to sleep. He couldn't get the faint sound of fluttering wings out of his head, couldn't shake the feeling that something was crawling just under the surface of his skin. He tucked his hands tight into his armpits to keep from scratching his skin raw. 

He waited out the night, shuddering from the gnawing feeling in his stomach- unrelieved by the endless cups of espresso he forced himself to drink. Black. No sugar allowed today. He heaved a sigh of relief at dawn and finally unwound himself to go to the window, throwing back the curtains, letting the light stream in. The light felt good on his skin. 

He sank back down into the couch cushions, planning to make tea. In a minute, in just a minute. His eyes fluttered closed and within moments he was fast asleep. 

The dream was a drastic departure from the kind he had been having lately. Rather than a jumble of sense impressions, colors, and smells this one was a memory, recreated in excruciating detail. 

_The whole fourth year class had been taken to the natural history museum in an attempt to instill some wonder about the natural world in their young, city-rooted brains. Dinosaur bones and stuffed animals were cool enough, Jin supposed, but at eight years old, nothing could wrench his attention away from football._

_The class trailed in a ragged line from room to room, the afternoon seeming to drag on forever. Jin found himself yawing in the face of endless display-lined hallways, dim except where they were striped with sunlight filtering in through one of the high windows. He got distracted watching the dust motes dance in the golden, syrupy light and when he blinked himself fully awake again the rest of the class had moved on._

_He was in a hall full of insects. He wasn't one of those fussy kids who freaked out at the sight of a bug but this place creeped him out. The long corridors were inset with flat glass display cases, each one devoted to a different type of insect. Each case containing endless rows of varieties, all lined up like miniature armies of bees or ants or beetles; all still and silent and awaiting commands._

_Jin edged cautiously away from the case of wasps and resisted the urge to swipe his hand across the back of his neck to quell the undeniable feeling of tiny legs crawling over skin. He turned and found himself in front of the butterflies. The case was an entire rainbow of iridescent wings and slender antennae._

_He remembered his mother telling him a story once, about a princess who was in love with a woodland spirit. When the youkai wanted to visit his love he would send a messenger to inform her: a butterfly spotted in red and gold._

_Her warm dreamy voice seemed to echo in the silent hallway. 'A butterfly in your house means the person you love is coming to see you.'_

_A real voice startled him out of his daze, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder that made him jump about a foot._

_"Hey, kid. Do you collect bugs?"_

_The man was middle-aged and a little scruffy, dressed in worn khakis and a plaid shirt though they were topped with a lab coat inscribed with the museum logo. He chuckled like he could hear Jin's thought process. "I'm an entomologist." He paused and laughed again at the way Jin's face must have been completely blank of recognition. "I'm a scientist who studies bugs. I love butterflies the most, I spent a long time collecting some of these samples."_

_A casual wave of his hand encompassed a large expanse of display and Jin nodded in what he hoped was an interested way._

_"Do you have a killing jar at home?"_

_The man's voice was completely relaxed like this was a perfectly ordinary question. Jin felt his eyes go wide, a sudden trickle of horror sliding down through his midsection like the first swallow of ice water on a very hot day._

_"No? Maybe you use the pinching method?" The man went on, oblivious to Jin's discomfort. "It's easy, just get a firm grip and squeeze." He accompanied the advice with a pincher motion of his fingers and Jin had to fight a full-body shudder at the thought._

_He looked away from the man in an attempt to discourage any other questions and found himself mere inches from the glass. All of those lovely wings used to be alive, fluttering in the breeze, maybe telling someone that their sweetheart was on his way. Now they were here. That's when he noticed that each specimen, each delicate, beautiful creature was attached to the board with a slender silver pin. Sharp steel right through the gut. Trapped._

_The man was still talking but Jin wasn't listening. He took off as fast as his football-trained legs would carry him, out of the hall, back to his class, back to the real world where butterflies were passing curiosities in fields. He ran, ignoring the barked warning of a museum guard, leaving thousands of tiny, sightless eyes behind him._

Someone was screaming. Two someones, actually. It took a breath to realize that one of the someones was him. He had woken with a shout, hands clutching his stomach to ward off the sudden, excruciating pain in his gut. The other someone was probably Pi who was standing right by his bed, panicking. 

"Jin, oh my god, are you ok?! I swear I didn't poke you that hard! I just wanted to wake you up-"

And just like that the pain was gone, vanished like it had never been. Fucking dream. His voice was heavy and weary, "Pi, dude. Calm down. I'm fine, it was just a bad dream." 

His best friend looked extremely skeptical. When he glanced in the mirror on his way to the bathroom Jin supposed he didn't blame him. He looked like shit. 

"Are you sure you don't have stomach cancer," Pi asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame as Jin inspected the dark bags under his eyes. 

"Don't even joke about something like that," Jin muttered. 

"Who says I'm joking," Pi countered. He did seem serious. "You should see a doctor just in case. It could be something bad, Jin." 

He gave Pi his best confident smile. "Ok, I'll set something up as soon as I have time. Next week, I should have some free time next week." 

Things would be getting busy soon, gearing up for his new single release. But he had a free day and a whole evening before it. He set up an appointment for late that morning and stayed home the night before, determined to get some sleep and wake up on time to make it to the doctor's. He resolutely refused to think about the possibility that he should probably be arranging a visit to a psychiatrist instead of his general practitioner. 

He took a long, hot bath and changed into his most comfortable clothes, he did some breathing exercises. He even drank warm milk though it was pretty gross. He ignored the fleeting thought that it would be a lot better with cocoa powder and sugar in it. He used it to swallow the two innocuous white pills Maru had given him last week to help him sleep. 

Jin settled into his bed and cleared his mind, willing any thoughts about wings or jungles or plants or any weird shit far away. He would get help tomorrow, the doctors would definitely be able to tell him what was going on. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Everything was going to be fine. 

He had been dreaming again... or was dreaming still; it was impossible to tell at this point. The lines between sleeping and waking were past blurry and right into nonexistent. But it felt like waking up. 

A familiar voice dragged him out of the dark pool of sleep, up into consciousness. Nakamaru had probably been talking for a few minutes now. Jin had only just registered the soothing murmur of sound as words now. 

"-they say you've been missing for days." 

He blinked. That got his attention. He opened his mouth to answer and his throat was so dry, voice rusty like it had gone unused. Must have been a hell of a nap. He tried again and this time, sound came out. 

"Haven't been missing. Just sleeping." His thought was punctuated by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Days? Seriously? I've been here. Didn't anyone think to check my apartment?" 

Nakamaru chuckled. The sound was low and familiar and sent a chill down Jin's spine. A full-body shudder that he couldn't explain. 

"Of course they did." His friend smiled at him, as kind and patient as ever and Jin fought the wild urge to shrink back into the warm safety of the bedclothes. "But you're not in your apartment, Jin. You're in mine." 

"What am I doing in your apartment?" Icy panic was seeping in around the edges. He tried to raise his arms to push the blankets away and was met with firm resistance. The realization that he wasn't laying down came suddenly. He was upright against the wall, stuck in some kind of hard casing; he could barely move his arms. 

"What the fuck is going on, Yuichi?" He meant to sound angry, threatening but his voice came out thin and reedy. He was so tired. Why was he still so tired? He felt weak, unsteady. "Did you drug me?" 

"Jin, it's ok. Nothing is happening that isn't supposed to. Just let nature run its course. Look." Nakamaru stepped to the side giving Jin a perfect view of the full-length mirror he had been standing in front of. 

His whole body was encased in something green and organic-looking. His hair tumbled in damp waves around his face, framing two slender antennae quivering at his temples. He threw himself forward, there was a wet ripping sound as the shell tore and he stumbled free. 

Nakamaru caught him, gentle hands on his shoulders steadying him. Jin struggled for a moment but he didn't have the energy to fight free a second time. "Don't you see, Jin? You're perfect now, I always knew you would be someday." 

He had no idea what Nakamaru was talking about, his shoulders felt itchy. He shrugged and felt something move behind him. He shrugged again and something sticky and damn uncurled. He jerked his gaze back to the mirror and gasped as brilliantly colored wings unfurled behind him. _Wings._

He flexed his muscles and they moved, one lazy flap against the still air of the room, the rich blues and greens shimmering against the black in the dim light. 

He was caught between horror and wonder. This was impossible but still- he was beautiful. 

Nakamaru was guiding him gently backwards, pressing him against the wall before Jin realized what was happening. 

He tore his eyes away from the mirror to meet Maru's just as he saw Maru pull his arm back; Maru's eyes were dark and wild. 

"Yuichi-" 

He didn't manage any more before the pain. Impossibly sharp pain in his gut, right below his stomach. His hands groped down blindly and found it: slim, smooth steel pinning him unerringly in place. 

Maru stepped back, maybe to admire his handiwork and Jin saw himself clearly. His limbs twitched a little, the electric language of pain racing down the length of his nerves. His wings were spread open against the wall, splayed in the perfect pattern. Still soft and useless now but they would probably dry perfectly. 

He really couldn't move the pin was buried that deep, sunk into the wall behind him. There was less blood than he expected but maybe his body was different now. He didn't think just one little stab to the gut was enough to kill a man so quickly but what did he know. His fingers framed a gesture from a memory. _Just get a firm grip and squeeze._ He laughed and it came out soft and broken in the quiet space. 

His thoughts scattered as the room started to go dark around the edges and cold. He was still damp and he shivered. Nakamaru was smiling again, running his fingers gently over the ridges of Jin's cheekbones and the curved arches of his wings. 

"They say the 'Ka' stands for Kamenashi but you're still ours. You'll always be ours." 

Jin couldn't quite remember where it had all gone wrong but he had been right about one thing at least, he was a beautiful specimen.


End file.
